Perfekt Order (The Ære Saga Book 1)

by S. T. Bende

  “Tired?” I stroked his back with my fingertips. Poor thing hadn’t slowed down since he’d got back from Asgard. He’d run me through gun training, then taught me how to fire a crossbow, then brought out the second gun and ran me through the paces again. By the time we were done, my arms shook from the effort of stabilizing the space gun. And if the bags under Tyr’s eyes as we ate dinner were any indication, he was even more exhausted than I was. It was the first time I’d seen him with dark circles. “You were gone almost thirty-six hours. Did you get any sleep in Asgard?”

  “None. But I’ve gone longer on less, so it’s not a huge deal.” Tyr’s pillow distorted his voice. He hadn’t moved.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I hedged.

  “Shoot,” came the muffled reply.

  “Would you ever consider, eh, retiring? Or taking a desk job or something?” I bit my lower lip and waited.

  “Why would I want to do that? I like my job.” Tyr turned his head just enough to peek at me with one eye.

  “Well, what happens if you have a family or something someday? You’re not going to keep doing this, are you?”

  Tyr stared at me. “If I were lucky enough to have a family, I’d fight even harder to protect them from the monsters hunting our worlds.”

  “But couldn’t you do that from inside an office, or something? Surely Odin has strategist roles?” The inside of my lip grew raw. I stopped chewing.

  “What are you really saying?”

  “I’m saying”—I closed my eyes—“I’m saying your job scares me. I don’t want you to get hurt. And I want to know that if we end up staying together, I won’t have to spend forever wondering if this is going to be the day you won’t come home.”

  Tyr tensed beside me. “You want me to quit my job?”

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know.” I threw a hand over my face and opened my eyes. “It’s just really scary to think about all the things that can hurt you. And to know you go out looking for them. I have no idea where things with us are going, or whether we’d even be able to have a long-term future together, since you’re a god and I’m, well, me. But if we did end up together in a few years, and things were serious, would you ever, I don’t know, be God of Nature, or something?”

  “Then who would do my job?” Tyr propped himself up on one elbow.

  “Another god?” I asked hopefully.

  “That’s not how it works, Mia. We’re born into our titles. Most of us live indefinitely, but in the rare circumstance a god is killed, his son or daughter is eligible to inherit his post. The Norns selected us for our predispositions to fulfill our duties. I have no desire to relinquish my title, and since I don’t have any children, I wouldn’t have anyone to pass it on to even if I wanted to.”

  “What about Elsa?” I ventured.

  “She has her own role to fulfill,” Tyr reminded me. “And I wouldn’t wish this life on my sister. Would you?”

  “No,” I whispered. My stomach fell. “So you’re saying you and your future son, are the only gods of war Asgard’s got? Isn’t there any way to change that?”

  “Even if there was, would you want me to give up what I am?” The look Tyr gave me was devastating. His mouth was turned down in sadness, his brow furrowed in confusion, and his eyes downcast, searching mine with a plea. “Am I not enough for you?”

  That was the problem. He was enough for me. More than enough. I was terrified the universe was going to take him away. And sending him off into the path of homicidal, dark magic-wielding animals seemed likely to increase the odds of my fear coming true.

  “I just don’t want to lose you,” I whispered. “I’m scared.”

  “Oh, prinsessa.” Tyr pulled me to his side of the bed. He lifted my head and slid an arm under my neck so my cheek lay on his bare shoulder. He palmed my bottom with one hand, and stroked the side of my face with the other. “This is who I am. Believe me, doing this job is a lot more palatable than what I’d be doing if my dad hadn’t adopted me.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  Tyr pressed a finger against my lips. “I get that I’m a lot to take on. And I understand if you don’t want to sign up for a life of worrying about me. You aren’t the first girl to ask me to quit my job, you know.”

  “I’m not?” I blinked. Stupid, Mia. He’s a thousand years’ old. You’re not his first anything.

  “No.” Tyr stroked my cheek again. “You’re not. Being with me is hard. I know that. But I promise if you stick around, I’ll make it worth your while.”

  He kissed me soundly, the hard, demanding kind of kiss that reminded me how very much in control of himself he was, in every possible situation. His hand wrapped around my head and pulled me closer, and he pressed his palm to the small of my back, driving my hips into his. Blood pooled just below my navel, and I shimmied against him, wanting to close even the tiniest gap between us. As I did, Tyr pulled his head back and looked down at me.

  “What do you say? Think you can hang in there with me?”

  I took a shaky breath. “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “The harder I fall for you, the harder it’s going to be to lose you.”

  “You’re not losing me, baby. Get that through your analytical little head. You’re stuck with me so long as you want to keep me.” Tyr kissed my forehead and rolled onto his back, tucking me against him in the process.

  “I want to keep you,” I whispered. “I just don’t know how to not worry about you.”

  “Then we’re even.” Tyr turned his head to look me in the eye. “I don’t know how to not worry about you. Let’s take life one day at a time together, ja?”

  I tucked my head into Tyr’s chest and breathed deeply. “Okay.”

  It was the only thing we could do. Who knew what tomorrow would bring?

  ****

  On Friday, Tyr and Henrik went to the shooting range while Charlotte, Heather and Brynn joined me at Tyr’s house for dinner. I’d promised them Meemaw’s chicken parmigiana, and Heather sat at the kitchen table and tucked her napkin over her lap before I’d even uncovered the dish.

  “Hungry?” I teased.

  “For this, yes. It’s my favorite of your dinners, and I haven’t had it in forever.” Heather picked up her fork as I served us up.

  “I know I haven’t been home in a week, but it’s not really that long.” I smiled.

  “One week without Meemaw’s chicken parm is pretty much an eternity.” She flung her hand to her forehead and pretended to faint.

  “It’s not good when the one who’s pre-Med passes out,” Charlotte observed drily. “Who’s going to revive her?”

  “Seriously, Mia.” Heather sat up. “When are you coming home? You haven’t, like, moved in here, have you?”

  “Moved in? Like permanently? No. It’s way too soon for that.” I kept my tone light. Brynn caught my eye and gave a small wink. She’d coached me thoroughly—the less everybody knew about what was going on, the better. “Truth is, I just can’t bear to be apart from this kitchen. Every single appliance is top-of-the-line.”

  “Right.” Heather snorted. “It’s the kitchen she can’t stay away from.”

  Charlotte giggled. “Even I’m not buying that one.”

  “Buy whatever you want.” I picked up my fork and smiled. “Bon appétit.”

  “Cheers.” Heather took a bite. “Mmm. So good.”

  “Delicious.” Charlotte closed her eyes as she chewed.

  “Mmm.” Brynn nodded in agreement.

  Heather finished chewing and leaned forward. “It was the sex, wasn’t it? It was so good you couldn’t stay away, even for one night. And now we might never see you back at the house again.”

  “Heather!” Charlotte threw her napkin at our friend. “You can’t ask that!”

  Brynn tilted her head. “But now that the question’s out there, how is the sex?”

  “Oh my god!” My cheeks may as well have been facedown on a griddle. “We’re not talking about this.”

  “It’s
that good, huh?” Heather sighed. “I knew it would be. Just look at him.”

  My arms flew up to cover my head. “Stop it!”

  “I have to admit, I’ve always been a little curious,” Brynn chimed in. “How big is his—”

  “Stop it!!” I giggled, and peeked out from behind my forearm. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen it.”

  “You’ve… wait. You guys are doing it, right?” Heather looked confused.

  “Uh, no. Not yet.”

  “Why not?” Brynn tilted her head in confusion, and even Charlotte leaned her forearms against the table, waiting.

  “I don’t know,” I mumbled. “It just hasn’t been the right time. Can we please talk about something else? Anything else?”

  My eyes met Charlotte’s, and she gave a small nod. “How about you, Brynn? How’s Henrik?”

  Brynn blushed right up to the tips of her ears. “We’re just friends.”

  “You want us to say something to him?” Heather offered. “Cause I’m sure if he knew you were into him, he’d be all over you.”

  “No!” Brynn waved her hands in front of her face. “It’s fine. I just, eh, we’re good.”

  “Whatever you say.” Charlotte shrugged. “I just want everyone to be as blissfully happy as our Mia, here. Just look at her. She’s glowing.”

  “I am not glowing.” I rolled my eyes.

  “You’d be glowing if you were having sex,” Heather pointed out.

  The tips of my ears probably matched Brynn’s.

  “Oh, this is to die for.” Heather pointed to her plate as she spoke through a mouth of tomato sauce. “How do you do this?”

  “I’ll show you next week if you want,” I offered. “It’s a super-easy dish.”

  “Sold.” Heather raised her fork. “I’m at the clinic on Wednesdays and Saturdays now, but any other evening is good.”

  “You picked up an extra shift? So your schedules are working for you. That’s great!” I took a bite, grateful for the subject shift.

  “Yeah. Sorry again for blowing up at you about all that. Turns out micro-scheduling and time blocking was exactly what I needed. I’m carrying a three-point-five GPA, and the time at the clinic has helped my coursework click into place. I’m way more productive than I ever was. So thanks for that.”

  “I’m glad I could help.” I reached over to squeeze her arm. “What about you, Charlotte? How’s your boyfriend?”

  “Fantastic.” She beamed. “I’m going home with him for Thanksgiving. His aunt lives in Ashland.”

  “Ooh. Catching any plays while you’re there?” I asked. “Or is that off-season?”

  “I don’t think Matt’s really the theatre type,” Charlotte mused. “But it’s okay. I’m sure we’ll find something to do.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Heather teased. “Is everybody ready for the Spirit of the Redwoods celebration?”

  “As ready as we can be.” I covered my mouth to hide my giggle. Only in Northern California would there be a festival honoring trees… complete with two days off school to observe the festivities.

  We caught up on the past week while we ate, and when dinner was over we finished the gallon of my favorite cookie-dough ice cream Tyr kept stocked for me. Tiny little Brynn managed to pack in the most, and she clutched her stomach as she walked to the front door.

  “Next time, cut me off after two bowls,” she moaned.

  “No way. Life’s short. Eat the ice cream.” Heather opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. “Well, hello, hotties.”

  We stepped out behind her and saw Tyr and Henrik getting out of the Hummer. Henrik shot us a grin as he walked up the front steps. “Hei hei, ladies.” He threw an arm around Brynn’s shoulders. “How was girls’ night?”

  “It was great,” she trilled. “There are leftovers in the kitchen. Mia made way too much.”

  “She always does.” Tyr came up on the porch and planted a hard kiss on my lips. “Hei baby,” he murmured.

  “Hi.” The word came on a breath. “You guys have fun?”

  “Always. But we’re starving. You really have leftovers?” Tyr’s hopeful tone was absolutely adorable.

  “Heaps. Help yourself. I’ll be in in just a minute.” I kissed him again, and he and Henrik walked into the house. Brynn and I walked the girls to Charlotte’s car and said our goodbyes. Then I turned to Brynn with a sly smile. “You coming back in?”

  “No.” Brynn sighed. “Henrik needs to work, and I need to watch Charlotte and Heather. One of our scouts in Svartalfheim said there was some weird stuff going on outside a closed portal. We don’t know for sure, but in case they’ve reopened it, I want to make sure the girls are protected.”

  “You’re a good friend.” I gave her a quick hug.

  “So are you. Now go in the house before I leave. I promised Tyr I’d keep an eye on you.”

  “I’m good now. Tyr gave me a space gun,” I boasted.

  “You mean a nano-molecular particle accelerator?” Brynn corrected.

  “Space gun sounds more fun.”

  “And where is your space gun right now? Do you have it on you?” Brynn raised an eyebrow.

  “Uh, no. It’s in the closet.”

  “Exactly. Get inside. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Brynn blew a kiss as she lowered herself into her car.

  “Night, Brynn.” I waved, and walked into the house. When I’d shut the front door behind me and peeked out the window to wave again, Brynn started her car and drove off. Henrik jogged by me, headed upstairs as I made my way down the hallway. “Good night, Henrik. Have fun working.”

  “Night, Mia! I’ll have Fred functional soon.” Henrik didn’t stop running as he spoke.

  “You need some help?” I called after him.

  “Nope. Just have fun with our boy. See ya!” Henrik reached the top of the stairs and rounded the corner.

  “See ya.” I smiled to myself. As I walked into the kitchen, I held back a giggle. Tyr sat at the counter, eating the rest of my chicken parm straight from the serving platter. “You enjoying yourself, mister?”

  Tyr looked up, guiltily. There were only a few bites left. “Mmm-hmm. That was delicious.”

  “You missed a spot.” I scooped a dollop of sauce onto my finger and held it in front of his mouth. Tyr raised an eyebrow and parted his lips, sliding my finger between them and sucking gently. His tongue slid along my knuckle, licking the remains of the sauce away, and sending goosebumps ricocheting across my arm. As he drew the finger out of his mouth, he swirled it one last time with his tongue for good measure. He didn’t break eye contact the entire time.

  Oh hot bejeebus.

  “Get over here, Miss Ahlström.” Tyr pushed the stool back from the counter and patted his lap. I stepped into him so that his long legs straddled mine. His hands palmed the small of my back, pushing up my shirt, while mine flew to his hair. I ran my fingers through the disheveled strands as Tyr leaned forward and brought his mouth to my neck. He massaged my skin with the warmth of his tongue, then moved up to nip my chin. When he reached my bottom lip, he raked it between his teeth, then sucked gently, running his tongue along the sensitive skin at the same time.

  Good Lord …

  “He’s back. You need to leave.”

  In my peripheral vision, I saw the kitchen door fly open and a towering figure stand in the doorway.

  “Henrik!” I squealed, tugging at my shirt while Tyr chuckled. “I thought you were working.”

  “Well clearly.” Henrik gestured to my top, which I hurriedly straightened. “But not anymore. Fenrir’s back. Get to the safe house now.”

  Tyr’s laughter disappeared. “Where?”

  “At the rear entry. He’s trying to break through the enchantments. You two have got to get out of here.” Henrik tossed a bag at Tyr, who caught it in one hand. “Here’s the ingredients from the safe. Take them with you. And get them to the dwarves as soon as you can.”

  Tyr flew upstairs and returned seconds later, holding a suitcas
e. Had he found that thing and packed it in the time it took me to fix my shirt? “Where’s Elsa?” he demanded.

  “Forse and the healers took Elsa to the northwest compound. Brynn’s setting protections around the Daffodil Drive house so Fenrir can’t go after Charlotte and Heather, and then she’s going to the safe house to be with Elsa.” Henrik handed each of us a space gun. “You might need these on your way out.”

  “Seriously?” My mouth opened.

  “You bet. Do you want to be unarmed when that breaks through?” Henrik pulled the curtain back on the window and we looked outside. The feral wolf leaped at the invisible shield.

  “Skit,” Tyr wrapped an arm around my waist and tightened his grip on the suitcase.

  Henrik nodded. “I’ll meet you there at dawn. I’ll bring the rest of your things.”

  Just then, the snarling outside stopped. A crash against the back door confirmed that Fenrir had breached the boundary. My heart leaped into my throat as an enormous wolf came barrelling through the kitchen window. Henrik raced for the weapons closet while I undid the safety on my space gun and gripped it in both hands. I’d thought I’d lined up a good shot, but when I pulled the trigger the white beam only grazed Fenrir’s hind foot. He snarled, but the blow didn’t slow his trajectory as he raced for us, using only three legs to push off countertops.

  Tyr held up a hand and an orb emanated from his fingers. It formed a bubble around us, stopping Fenrir’s drive as he leapt from the counter. He let out another snarl and bit at the orb. It disintegrated in a shower of pale blue sparkles, its remains sprinkling the kitchen in a glittery glow. Fenrir took a step back and prepared to strike, and without thinking, I took aim and fired again. And again. I kept firing until the space gun ran out of magic. It never occurred to me the stun setting might not be enough to protect us. In the heat of the moment, I didn’t think to switch it to implode. Thankfully, a series of white lights shot out of the weapon, striking Fenrir in the head with enough force to knock him on his back.

  “Nice shots,” Tyr murmured.

  “Oh thank God.” My heart thumped wildly and my hands trembled as I lowered the weapon. “I was afraid he was going to—”